


dirthavaren

by SeleneLux



Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Anxiety, Arachnophobia, Bad Elvish Translations, Blood Magic, Character Death, Depression, F/F, F/M, Forbidden Love, M/M, Multi, Past Lives, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Reincarnation, Secrets, Trust Issues
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-29
Updated: 2020-06-29
Packaged: 2021-03-04 05:21:38
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,496
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24978346
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SeleneLux/pseuds/SeleneLux
Summary: Flemeth once said that she was but a shadow, lingering in the sun.Time and again, Ellana has come to wonder the real meaning behind the woman's words. She lives and labors in a modern Thedas - the magic of which would have awed her in her first lifetime - but she has endured too many to appreciate the wonders of technology. Instead, she floats through her life, cursed to follow the same paths and repeat the choices made in earlier ones, and be powerless to stop it.Until, like a bolt of lightning, Solas reenters her life, and Ellana is forced to remember that a promise made is a promise kept.
Relationships: Female Hawke/Merrill, Female Lavellan/Solas, Leliana/Female Surana (Dragon Age)
Comments: 1
Kudos: 11





	dirthavaren

The heat of the Dales caused an uncomfortable sweat to creep up Ell’s arms as she stood in the brightly lit room. She held her phone aloft as her eyes traced over the image before her, and she began to wonder what exactly was the purpose this temple had, so far removed from civilization, either of its own time or modern-day.

“Rather interesting, don’t you think?” Dorian suggested with a twitch of his mustache. He raised his hand as though to touch the fresco before them before pulling it away once more. “No known lore connecting those two, yet here they are. And that  _ pose! _ Rather risqué, even for the elves!”

There was no denying the excitement in his voice. After all, this was a discovery that would change the interpretation of elven lore forever afterward. The way the characters embraced gave the impression of something much closer than friendship—there was certainly no way to refute that.

“Shh,” Ell chided, tweaking the cuff of his left shirt sleeve. She pressed the record button on her phone and continued. “Third day of the investigation of the temple known as  _ Halam’shivanas _ , located southeast of Montsimmard, in the Dales. Found in the second room beyond the atrium: elven fresco, depicting what can be interpreted as Ghilan’nain and Fen’Harel embracing—”

“If that’s  _ all _ they’re doing,” Dorian cut in with a chuckle. 

Ell swallowed, but she moved onward without addressing the comment. “In this light, the colors are difficult to pin down—perhaps the residual magic of the Halamshiral-period elves. Present are the halla horns—”

“Depicting the horniness,  _ obviously _ .”

“—indicating the central figure is the Elven goddess of animals. Embracing her—”

“Fondling her, you mean.”

“—identified by the symbolism of the wolf’s ears, is Fen’Harel.” She stopped, suddenly breathless. How could her secrets be laid bare before her?

The facade her past life had carefully erected was the only thing that should have survived the test of time. Ghilan’nain was the chosen of Andruil—her first in all things both romantic and political. There was that dodgy oral tradition Briala had spread and made popular, the one of Andruil capturing Fen’Harel, but no scholar had ever taken that more seriously than an example of Andruil’s jealousy run amok. How did these ancient elves know the secrets that had lain buried in Mythal’s temple under hundreds of feet of rock and snow?

In the brief silence that followed, Dorian made a grab at the phone she was holding aloft.

“You’re not even telling the good stuff, Ellana!” he exclaimed as he tried to pull the device from her grasp. “What about her naughty bits hanging out and that flash of red from her lower section? It’s the elves’ version of a dirty novel!”

Ell leaned away from Dorian, elbowing him in the chest to keep him from the phone. 

“Dorian—this—is—my—work!”

Despite it being Dorian’s suggestion, it pained her to understand what Thedas would see this as—a pornographic image of Ghilan’nain losing her virginity, no doubt. The artist’s placement of the stream of blood was just south enough for it to be interpreted as a scene of a ravishment, not the flight of death it truly was.

Suddenly, the doors to the room opened, and Ell and Dorian froze with their arms in the air, struggling over the phone. 

“This was just discovered yesterday, and we have our best on it,” Merrill said cheerfully as she led the stranger into the room. “It is easily a different style from what we’re used to. I can’t wait to see even more!”

There was a beat of silence as Merrill took in the sight of the pair almost mirroring the objects of the fresco behind them. She raised an eyebrow. The man following her slowly stepped into the room, his hand lingering on the door handle. His eyes traced the outer edges of the fresco and then they landed on Dorian and Ell.

“It is quite remarkable.”

The phone slid out of Ell’s outstretched hand and hit the floor with a loud bang, shattering the screen. She recognized that voice. She recognized those eyes penetrating her from a couple of meters away.

Solas.

“Aha!” Dorian exclaimed triumphantly; he had missed Ell’s sudden change of temperament as victory became his. He picked up the phone, frowning at the spiderweb of cracks across its surface.

She had not seen Solas since—since—

Since  _ that day _ . Ell closed her eyes for a moment, willing the images that flashed before them to dissipate. She couldn’t— _ he _ couldn’t. Not  _ now _ .

“I’m so sorry,” shesaid, laughing weakly, and her mind went blank “Ah… we were just—um—recording the fresco.” Hastily, she snatched the phone back out of Dorian’s hands and shoved it into her pocket.

“Oh, I thought you were trying a new dance!” Merrill replied. “I was going to ask you to teach me sometime. Solas, this is Ellana Lavellan and Dorian Pavus. Ell is our primary researcher for the guild. I can’t remember what Dorian does.”

In response, Dorian looked affronted. Ell shook her head and immediately sidestepped Merrill and Solas to the door behind them. She couldn’t— _ wouldn’t— _ look at him. 

“I’m—I’m going to go get Hawke’s phone,” she said awkwardly. “Be right back!”

She entered the empty corridor and closed the door behind her, then leaned against it. A cold sweat had broken out on the back of her neck, saturating the collar of her shirt. Her fingers twitched as she brought a hand up to her mouth, holding back a noise she could not quite identify. 

Dorian’s voice floated through the door behind her.

“Merrill, I’m a writer from  _ Travels of the Arcane! _ How many times do I have to  _ tell _ you?” 

Ell inhaled deeply and headed back to the temple’s atrium where the remainder of the research team was gathered. Mosaics winked down at her in the light of the fluorescents Hawke had hooked up when she searched the building not long after its discovery. Despite her vast knowledge of history, Ell herself did not know the reason behind the temple’s formation, and could only offer guesses as to its purpose. It was a welcome distraction from her thoughts when she caught sight of Hawke sitting with her phone in her lap, grinning from ear to ear.

“Mar, I need your phone,” Ell said as she approached. She reached into her pocket and pulled out the broken one for Hawke to see.

“Ell.” The grin slowly faded as Hawke looked up. “You can’t mean  _ my _ phone. I just got Fenris to reply back!”

“I need to record the fresco for Messere. She wanted it back as soon as possible. Do you want to explain to her why I couldn’t do it?”

For a moment, Hawke looked as though she’d rather explain to their employer why their work remained incomplete, but then she frowned and handed the phone over. 

“Maker,” she sighed. “Just don’t go poking around my messages with Merrill. And don’t go breaking this one!”

“On my honor,” Ell returned with a smirk. She pushed the phone into her jeans pocket and turned on her heel back in the direction of the fresco room.

“This is not like any paint with which I am familiar. You said she was your foremost researcher?”

Solas’s voice floated down the corridor, echoing through Ell’s ears. She pushed her tongue to the roof of her mouth as she listened.

“Yes. Messere said she is the most talented,” Merrill replied, as cheery as ever. 

“How long does it take to get a phone though?” Dorian asked.

Ell opened the door then. “I heard that, Dorian.”

“Well, you  _ were _ taking forever.”

“I was just remarking on the type of paint,” Solas said. He had moved closer to the fresco now, his hands hovering just over the center of the image. “It rather bends the light. I cannot gather the emotion that is presented in the image. It is too… conflicted.” 

Ell peered at him with interest. The conflict appeared more on his face than in the fresco. She wondered just how deep the emotion ran in him.

“Who is this again, Merrill?” Dorian asked. “Wait, don’t answer that question.” He addressed Solas directly. “Who are you again?”

“My name is Solas.” He pulled his hand away from the fresco and returned them to his pockets. “I am a professor of archaeology.” He looked at Ell. “As your Messere values your input so highly, might I ask for your own initial interpretations?”

Ell swallowed, frowned and turned to face the fresco. 

“At this point, I have only conjectures,” she replied. “There are some runes that need translating—perhaps they will offer some definity to interpretation.”

Solas nodded. “Perhaps I can follow up with you at a later time?”

_ No, no, no.  _ There was no way she was going to encourage this. Despite herself, however, she pulled out Hawke’s phone. “And your number is…?”

**Author's Note:**

> Here it is again, hopefully new and improved! Thank you so much to [FenHarelMaGhilana](https://archiveofourown.org/users/WhitethornWolf/pseuds/FenHarelMaGhilana) for becoming my beta. You are so helpful, and I could not have gone back to this as I have without you!
> 
> Thank you so much, everyone, for reading this. It's been a tough year for everyone so far, and it is my hope that soon things will start to improve, hopefully now that summer is underway. I also hope that everyone has a great week!


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